


Pilgrim

by Helenadorf



Series: The Father, The Son [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Functionist Universe (Transformers), Gen, Post-Canon, redemption arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29101173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helenadorf/pseuds/Helenadorf
Summary: The fall of the Functionist Council has left their favoured preacher in a precarious position. Star Saber, once one of the most respected paladins on Cybertron, has become a far more contested figure. The inhabitants of this new universe loathe him with a burning passion, and even his own followers have grown frustrated with him. Longing for answers, Star Saber begs for Primus' guidance. What he is given is an answer he never expected.
Relationships: Star Saber & Jan Minakaze
Series: The Father, The Son [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135211
Comments: 11
Kudos: 9





	Pilgrim

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!
> 
> So I've been working on this for a while (kind of). I knew I loved the idea of importing Jan into the IDW1 continuity, but I also knew I needed a reason for Star Saber to be his father that would work with his characterization in MTMTE. Of course, I also had a short little scene in mind of Sabes having an existential crisis, and from there, I had my plot bunny.
> 
> This series is going to be five main stories, with a handful of one-shots filling in their lives together as parent and child. But Jan doesn't show up until chapter 2, and while I don't know if I'll end up writing the rest of this fic, nevermind the series, I at least wanted this chapter to go up for the scene that inspired the whole thing to begin with.
> 
> Teen rating is for heavy subject matter more than anything else, though there are references to a lot of death and bad habits (including addiction and self-harm).
> 
> Enjoy! Let me know if you're interested in the rest. ^^

*

Star Saber looked up through the ceiling and asked God if He was angry with him. How had he gone from Cybertron’s most powerful mech, to its most loathed?

Star Saber had followed the Council’s every command. After all, they’d been the first ones to teach him the majesty and power of God, when he had still just been a young jet getting along on Cybertron; thanks to them, he had found his direction in life, and pursued it wholeheartedly. He could feel God’s blessing within himself, illuminating his path in a brilliant set of landing lights, preparing him to fly past the stars.

They’d noticed too. Star Saber had been faithful enough that they chose to bestow upon him alt mode exemption, such that when the space shuttles and starcrafts and spaceships were mass-recalled, his space-worthy jet mode remained untouched. In return, Star Saber would be asked to work more directly with them, serving as their personal enforcer. The warning in their tone had been unnecessary— he agreed gladly.

After some time, he’d been able to arrange for the ascension of his acolytes as well. His  _ friends _ — or at least, they had once  _ been _ his friends. 

Blacker, a dune buggy who’d joined the church alongside him, and the brothers Braver and Laster, whom they’d met at church, were devout. Talented. The Council would have been remiss to neglect or pass them over; Laster found work at the Institute and earned his needles, and Braver completed his medical degree with honours and a research grant. Sure, speedsters weren’t ideal for the jobs in question, but if God saw fit to have gifted them such intellect and skill, why not make use of it? It wasn’t as heretical as, say, a jet.

Blacker, on the other hand, was a soldier almost as powerful as Star Saber. The military was where he belonged as per his alt mode. It was there he would grow in rank and position. It suited him well, such that Star Saber could think of no better place for him. They fought on separate fronts— Blacker’s job was to handle the rabble. Star Saber’s concerns were the  _ special _ threats.

Threats like Megatron and his insurrectionists.

Where the hell that apostate came from had been a minor concern for them. The more important task, for Star Saber and the Brainmasters, was to see to the snuffing of his little rebellion. Those who were captured and useful went to Braver and Laster for  _ repurposing _ . Blacker was to execute the uppity little insects that got in the way, and Megatron himself was all for Star Saber. Not that Megatron’s little  _ fan club _ would let it be so easy. That old miner Terminus insisted, for example, on being in the path of Star Saber’s blade at a pivotal moment he’d had the upstart pinned down.

Still, he’d taken out enough of Megatron’s heretical underlings that, when it came time to reconfigure Cybertron into Primus, the Council had found an even greater purpose for Star Saber. With the Council as the conduit between God’s will and His Planetary Vessel, they could not be distracted with the governance of Cybertron as well. As such, they handed the fate of the masses unto Star Saber, and denoted new city leaders who would serve as Primus expected of them.

In spite of his disappointment to be forced to surrender his hunt for Megatron, Star Saber accepted the honour. And as he beheld from the balconies of Adaptica the planet that would yield to him, he knew God truly did see him as something special.

Now, he peered from the ambo of a run-down church in one of the lower-caste areas of the city, he wondered what he could have possibly done wrong that made Primus turn on him so completely.

He’d only done as he’d been told, but as the centuries passed, it seemed Megatron had been earning his place in the Afterspark among the faithful and righteous. Several of the Council were killed, cutting the Twelve down to a mere seven (excluding the Traitor). Primus was able to destroy several of the organic planets useless to His will only for others to be evacuated by the apostates under Megatron. At the time, Star Saber was  _ certain _ that Megatron’s growing success in his march against the Council was founded in a connection to Mortilus— or, possibly, even Unicron. He’d certainly the dark, deep, sinister voice to match his beginnings in mining pits, not unlike depictions of Mortilus coming from deep within the planet. Let it not also be said that Mortilus could not find purpose in creatures that were made to die such as organics.

And then Primus followed Megatron through the portal.

That, perhaps, is when things were thrown into question.

Star Saber recalled the shock of the planet shifting and transforming beneath his feet, the moments before he transformed and took flight to try and restore silence among the people. He recalled the alerts of multiple ships breaching the atmosphere with energy signatures of  _ multiple _ Matrixes on-hand, landing at each of the planet’s twelve hot spots. Blacker deployed the Council’s forces, even running back to his and Star Saber’s birthing place to defend it himself... Star Saber joined him, refusing to let the hallowed land that warmed his spark in its vulnerable infancy be sullied by the trodding feet of heretics...

The flash of light as the Matrix opened, at the hands of… two  _ absolute nobodies _ , mechs with faces Star Saber didn’t recognize and most certainly not the looks of  _ squires _ , nevermind righteous paladins. Reports of the same happening at the other hot spots. Word that the Council had been  _ completely annihilated _ at Primus’ center…

Later, Star Saber learned that Megatron was among the new Thirteen Primes that had opened their Matrixes at the hot spots.

Then, this universe’s governing bodies of its own Cybertron— which, as it turned out, had been destroyed by Unicron— arrived. They usurped control of the planet from Star Saber and his people, granting him only the mercy of continued life. At the end of the world, God’s Chosen was abandoned with only questions.

Where had the Matrixes come from? Who were these new Thirteen, beyond their apparent and inconceivable connection to God? Why did Primus give his Light to  _ Megatron _ , a mech who by all accounts could never truly be holy?  _ What did Star Saber do wrong _ ?

Whatever had become of his favour in the eyes of Primus, his fall led him here: giving sermons to what few loyalists he could muster. It was the most that the new government of Cybertron (“New Cybertron”. How these arrogant apostates loved to center themselves!) would allow him. His congregation was few in number. Many of them still sustained fresh scars from the fight to keep their planet. But here, in one of the few pure, uncorrupted houses of God, Star Saber could keep the fire of their faith alive, and pray that he could shield his own from the cold beating at the doors.

“For a new Golden Age,” he was saying, reading from a datapad he’d prepared the night before, “We must not allow the atheism and the moral degeneracy of the Usurpers to muddy our thoughts. To recreate the Cybertron Primus wants, it must start here: in our sparks, in our minds, and in this building. Hold steadfast and we can reclaim the numbers it will take to return to the beloved world we knew, His Hand and His Blade, to its proper path.”

(‘ _ Return it to its proper path’ _ , as if He did not personally facilitate its strayed course to begin with— right down to the portal that drew them out of their own universe into this alternate one in which Megatron was born. How could that be read as anything less than an endorsement of what happened at the hot spots?)

“The changes of late have been harrowing, yes. But we must not lose faith. They can take down our signs, destroy our statues and tear down the buildings that we once called our holy sanctuaries. But faith  _ must _ be tested, as to prove that it is not an affectation! Real faith hurts. Real faith demands resilience and action. This suffering is not anything less than a trial to prove ourselves to God, and you must hold true to Him and His Teachings!”

(But how much pain did it take before it became clear that what He meant to send was a message? When did a test of faith become the unquestionable display of His will, that He wanted something to change? And  _ what _ ?)

“Primus still has a mission for us, and I have no doubt that it is to complete the task which the Council began. We must purge the universe of the filth that does not serve Him, which was not built by His hands. And for all the prices we have paid, we have this comfort: Megatron is no longer among us. Even if we deign to call that apostate  _ Prime _ , his past sins have won him no mercy in the eyes of God nor the world he is native to. Our time will come again!”

(He had to believe that. He  _ did _ .)

“And remember, before I dismiss you, children of God: In the Grand Taxonomy, all Cybertronians have a duty to uphold His word,” he concluded. “Spread it how you must, hold it close, and never let anything sway you from the righteous path. God needs you as He needs me, as He needs all those worthy of His Grace to trust in Him and love Him, and to prove their love for Him.”

( _ What did I do to lose Your Love, my Lord? _ )

“I end today’s service on that note. Take pride in being a cog in the machine.”

The pews filled with quiet chatter. A handful of wavering faithful raised from their seats and left quickly. Star Saber wished he could feel anger at their overeagerness to get on to the rest of their days, but as he stepped away from the ambo, he dreaded the irked look on Blacker’s face as he walked up.

Not that he didn’t appreciate Blacker and his other acolytes rejoining his side. It was a comfort of its own that no matter what happened, they would still come to his aid. But these days, Blacker was a mouthpiece for the side of faith that Star Saber wished he could do more than scramble for with bloodied hands. Coming from a voxcoder other than his own, it came across less as comforting and more…  _ nagging _ ?

Yes, that was perhaps the kindest way to put it.

“This is humiliating,” Blacker growled, his arms crossed over his chest.

Star Saber shut off his datapad screen. “It is what it is for the moment, Blacker. It will take time to reclaim our following.”

_ Reclaim _ it? Given how readily and happily the people of Cybertron welcomed the denizens of the local universe’s fallen planet,  _ supported _ their coup, it was clear that they never had much of an honest following to begin with. Star Saber dared wonder if that shouldn’t have been expected. How many obeyed out of fear rather than genuine belief?

“You never should have ceded control in the first place!”  _ Here we go again. _ “Say what you will about living another day to see the Council’s will done, rather than let the True Faith die with us. Was it worth it? I would rather have died a soldier of God, not—”

“ _ God’s _ will, Blacker,” Star Saber corrected.

“Oh, shove it up your exhaust, Sabes. They’re the same damn thing.”

“The distinction is important nevertheless.”

“Whatever!  _ Reclaim our following _ my ass. Our congregation is, what, twenty-thirty people? This is stupid and you know it!”

Star Saber gave Blacker a look. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it  _ now _ . Do you think I can turn back time and change my decision? Or do you want us to march up the steps of ‘New Iacon’s’ head governmental building and perform a coup with those twenty-to-thirty people?”

“Frankly, I wish you would!”

Star Saber could feel all the exasperation he liked, but he felt the more telling aspect of this conversation was the reaction to it— or lack thereof, from the congregation in question. Although a handful of uncommon faces had their attention drawn as they picked up their things and hesitated to the door, those who had been here since the start didn’t so much as glance over their shoulders for the argument.

He couldn’t blame them. He wished he could freely show their same exhaustion, rather than school it behind the façade that used to be his truth.

Where did his faith go? Was this why God couldn’t stand him any longer?

Star Saber stilled his expression and gave Blacker a stern glare. He’d wasted enough breaths telling Blacker he was a fool in repetitions past.

Blacker responded with a sharp rev of his engine, strong enough to spin the spiked tires on his shoulders.

“You never were a grateful one, Blacker,” chirped Braver from the sidelines. Though his new position as a priest was a far cry from his work alongside his brother at the Institute, he’d stepped into the new role gracefully. Laster, sitting at his side, had no commentary for the moment.

“Maybe  _ you’re _ happy to waste your God-given talents on this crap, but  _ I _ was happy with my job,” Blacker hissed. “It’s what I was built for! All of Cybertron’s armies deployed at my command. Do you know what it’s like to one day be the strongest mech on the planet, and the next be forced to kiss the ground like a mewling coward while someone else barges in?”

“Then let this be a lesson in humility, if you insist on seeing that work as nothing more than an ego trip,” Star Saber snapped. “You wasted your divine Purpose self-aggrandizing instead of serving Him, now you need to relearn what it means to properly devote yourself.”

Blacker grumbled.

“Great, then why do the rest of us go down with him?” Laster asked, clicking his mnemosurgery needles together. “Speaking personally,  _ I _ didn’t do anything but serve as I was asked. Why’d  _ I _ lose my job, then?”

Star Saber wished he had the answer. Unfortunately, as the last of the congregation filed out of the pews and out into the cruel world, he scraped for the explanation he stuck to in his sermons, for lack of an explanation he believed.

“For the rest of us, this is a test.” Star Saber started down towards the hall to his office, looking to get started on the rest of the day’s duties before his acolytes exhausted him into obsolescence. “If we can endure, God will show us the way to restore our proper positions in society.”

“Yeah, Laster. He had a whole sermon about it,” Braver said.

Much as the tease was ostensibly aimed at Laster, Star Saber noticed the look in the singular eye behind Braver’s visor. Braver was always a little  _ too _ friendly, a bit  _ too _ eager in his behaviour— but when it was just that little bit more, just beneath the surface, Star Saber knew too well that there was something else to his joy than simply his default.

That was the thing about his acolytes. The three of them each had their own problems as Faithful that after millions of years, Star Saber could never correct.

It wasn’t that Blacker’s aggressiveness, Laster’s irritability or Braver’s eccentricities weren’t in their own rights useful to Primus’ plan. It made them loyal— the brothers moreso than Blacker— but nevertheless… and they had been the way they were for as long as Star Saber had known them, much as it seemed like they’d gotten  _ worse _ over the years. (That observation was flawed: they were directionless, just as he was before he found God.) And it wasn’t that Star Saber didn’t love them anyway. They had been his friends for as long as he had lived.  _ Literally _ in the case of Blacker.

But it seemed like he was the only true believer of the four of them, and that was disappointing at best. He hadn’t the energy these days to berate them for their vices— not when his brain insisted on anguishing over what he’d lost.

“Yeah, he’s given the same sermon for the past several weeks.” Laster scoffed, scratching at his neck with his needles. Gashes in the cables there relayed how often he’d been doing that lately. “Forgive me if I started tuning him out when the whole thing wore thin.”

Star Saber stopped at the door of his office, placed his hand next to the keypad and turned to look at him. “Are you not a believer of God, Laster?” Star Saber asked.

Even at his own most tired, there must have still been enough threat in his voice that Laster jerked his hand away from his neck and tightened his back. “O-of course, sir. I was just…”

“Annoyed,” Blacker offered. “Just like I am.”

“The both of you can be annoyed elsewhere,” Star Saber said. “I have better things to do than answer the same questions again and again.”

Blacker grumbled. Laster said nothing, slowly returning to his scratching. The both of them left the hallway in opposite directions to one another. While they disappeared in their respective paths, it seemed Braver chose to linger.

Sighing, Star Saber opened the door of his office and allowed Braver to follow at his back. He took a seat behind his desk and waited for Braver to speak before he bothered to pull out any of the scheduling and finances and other bureaucratic nonsense he’d outgrown millennia ago. ( _ Humility _ , he counselled himself again:  _ Don’t forget what you told Blacker. You do not serve God to stroke your own ego. _ )

"You have something to speak to me about?" Star Saber asked.

Braver smiled in that way that discomfited him. "You look stressed, my friend. Our circumstances trouble you, too, don't they?"

"It's nothing that can be helped for the moment." Star Saber busied himself, pulling out his day's work and setting his datapad of sermons to the side. "This is the Path we walk, regardless of what brought us here. We can only see where it leads."

"It'd probably be a more pleasant journey if my brother and Blacker could get a handle on themselves!" Braver laughed. "Oh, I believe you, that this is a test of faith. And I think you'll be interested in my proof."

Star Saber paused, raising an eye ridge as he looked over at Braver. Braver's smile widened, and the Brain of Intellect set his elbows on the desk to lean his head on his hands.

"You see, I did some digging," he explained. "About this universe's history. More specifically,  _ our _ history. And how fascinating the differences are! It seems Blacker, Laster and I have been dead for half a million years."

"Is that so. What from?"

"It seems we three were killed in an extended campaign against some 'Decepticons'.  _ Megatron's _ faction. Or, I suppose, Megatron Prime?"

Star Saber couldn't help the grimace that spread on his face at the thought.  _ Megatron Prime _ . How repulsive, that someone like Megatron, a knock-off miner defying the will of God, would claim such a sacred title!

(But he  _ earned _ it. God favoured him undeniably. But why him? What did Star Saber do so wrong that Primus saw fit to tear him down and give His blessings to someone like that?)

"Oh, it gets better," Braver gushed. "You see, at the time, Megatron Prime's goals were exactly like ours! He sought the eradication of organic life. Except, atheist that he is, he saw it as a step to claim dominance over the universe for Cybertron! How arrogant, don't you think?"

"Then why in Primus' name was he trying to stop  _ us _ ?" Star Saber demanded, not so much of Braver so much as of the absent 'Prime'.

"Apparently he realized he was wrong sometime in the past… year and a half? Bizarre, really. But he abandoned his faction, joined his enemies, and began to seek redemption for his crimes. His work against us was to that same end."

"Chasing to repent by defying the will of the Almighty. How backwards…"  _ And yet, it worked. It worked so well he became  _ Prime _. _

It was a special sort of distressing to be uncertain of Primus' intentions, especially when Star Saber had been sure he'd known Him and His will so well. Millennia had been spent on it, rewarded justly, unquestioned. And now, all of a sudden...

Something else occurred to Star Saber in a moment of curiosity. "What of myself?"

He would shortly regret asking.

* * *

  
  


Star Saber hadn’t been able to focus much on his work after Braver was done with the story. Once he was alone, he restrained the urge to scream. The walls of his church weren’t thick enough to smother such an outburst, he knew— and that was the last thing he needed to have his acolytes see. His relationship with each of them was fraught enough as it was. He had to maintain authority over them, for their sakes, and if he couldn’t do that…

He and his acolytes lived in their beaten little church. It wasn’t as if they had the money to rent elsewhere— they’d already had to pool what they had for this much. If Star Saber listened, he knew what each of them were doing. 

At this point, he was well acquainted with the sounds that denoted their active hours versus their inactive: Braver was always quiet if he wasn’t directly speaking, or tinkering, or…  _ experimenting _ . But he was also meticulous in his schedule, and Star Saber knew he would be asleep by the time the clock struck 10. Laster was less predictable, but more easily located by sound— his needles were always clicking together or scratching at wires on his person. Neck, usually. Occasionally the wrist or elbow or under the knee. If he wasn’t, he had retired for the night. Blacker had heavy footsteps and a frequent need for an outlet. When the hour got late, he’d sneak out a back exit of the building and transform, heading towards the Dead End.

At that point, when the world fell silent, Star Saber decided to sneak off for himself.

He changed into jet mode and flew past the remnants of Functionist billboards still littering Adaptica, many of them defiled with heretical (justified? No! It can’t be!) commentary. For all his confusion that he felt, he at least had a very clear destination in mind in this moment.

Damn Braver. Damn him! Why did he insist on taking so much joy out of watching him so intently, as he told the unfortunate tale of this universe’s alternate Star Saber?! Braver was always a sadistic soul— always endeared to the pleasures of  _ seeing what happens _ for anything from his bodily experiments to the simple act of delivering information, though this particular knowledge was unprecedented in terms of its existential implications. Apparently, to Braver, it had been enough to convince him of the truth of Star Saber’s sermons.

God help him. (God had no love for him anymore, He would not.) Star Saber only felt his foundational certainties collapse in the wreckage of his alternate’s lost life.

As with him, his alternate had outlived his mentors. One of Megatron’s Decepticon pets, a cold-construct named Starscream, had single-handedly executed the Functionist Council before they could defend themselves. And as with him, the other Star Saber lived with the consequences the Council did not get to see. He joined the Autobots under Optimus Prime, a fair decision to make in the absence of his guiding voices, and brought his acolytes with him.

And then his acolytes died, and left him alone. Desperate for direction, Star Saber had joined with the Circle of Light under the coward, Dai Atlas.

_ Dai Atlas. _ Star Saber recalled the name as well as his gaggle of heretics, given a chance to be released from the grip of the Council and flee the planet in one of the few remaining starships left in existence, thanks to Chief Engineering Officer Tyrest. In fact, aside from Megatron, Tyrest had been one of Star Saber’s most important targets… and like Megatron, had escaped justice. (Been protected by Primus, evidently. He helped good mechs escape, and what did you do, Star Saber?  _ What did you do? _ )

But the Tyrest of this universe, it seemed, had found a change of heart at some point after the Great War between the Autobots and the Decepticons. He’d met and shared a plan with the other Star Saber, allowing for the tearing down of the Circle of Light’s ranks and the death of Dai Atlas in this universe. Then Tyrest was defeated, and Star Saber was alone again.

With his faith stubborn and surely hanging on threads, he went on to the  _ Lost Light _ (the alternate  _ Last Light _ , so it seemed). And it was there that this Star Saber went as well.

The  _ Lost Light _ had surrendered its energy stores to feed the suddenly swollen Cybertronian population, much to the dismay of its crew of apostates (chosen paladins?). To Megatron and his cultists (his people), it had been a base of operations (a home). It had been the stage of trials for the New Thirteen. And now, it was a monument to commemorate the usurping (the defeat) of the Functionist Council and the survival of the Cybertronian race after multiple wars across two dimensions.

Next to it was a mausoleum housing the bodies that had previously filled its morgue. That was the place of interest to Star Saber for the moment. Once the ship in its enormity was in view, Star Saber found a place to land and changed back into robot mode.

The anxiety crawling through his lines itched as a thousand writhing Insecticons in his blood, keeping at bay just a little longer the bizarre and ill-advised nature of his intentions. Even with the few privileges he’d kept following the Council’s fall, he had no clearance here.

But he  _ had _ to come here. Had to walk parallel to the gutted ship outside, knowing someone of his exact spark had once walked its halls. To force his way into this house of tombs, of which he was one of its ghosts.

As he entered, he could see already that the occupied crypts were humbly covered in offerings. Flowers, religious incense, objects of no obvious importance to an outside viewer. The coffins were of a wide variety; Spectralist scraps, proper caskets, shoddy boxes pulled from some storage locker— each tagged with a plaque with the person’s name and obituary.

_ Ambulon of Operation Split Infinity  
_ _ A Doctor, a Friend, a Leg end. _

_ Damus of New Tarn _ _  
_ _ Fell at Messatine _

(An offering from Megatron himself was placed at this one, and Star Saber knew full well that this casket was empty after what happened to the body.)

_ Nine-of-Twelve, the Inquisitor  
_ _ Fell on the Lost Light  
_ _ If Only He Had Been Listened To. _

Star Saber swallowed the nausea curdling in his throat and continued.

_ Nightbeat of Yuss _ _  
_ _ Fell on Mederi _ _  
_ _ We’ll Never Know What He Discovered. _

_ Atomizer  
_ _ Killed by Getaway  
_ _ Realized His Mistake Too Late. _

_ Froid of the Pious Pools.  
_ _ “We Grieve for the Murdered Word”. _

_ Sunder of Tetrahex.   
_ _ Brother, Mnemosurgeon, Impossibly Scary … _

He eventually came upon a casket with no offerings, significantly larger than most of the others.  _ Familiarly  _ so. With his stomach boiling like a pit of acid, Star Saber read:

_ Star Saber of Warrior’s Gate _ __  
_ The Dark Evangelist _ _  
_ __ May Primus Forgive His Sins

Acid turned to spoiled blood, sickly and filthy. He reached to pull the casket from its resting place, stalling a moment, scraping it loudly across the shelf before taking it and laying it down onto the floor with weak arms. He’d had no offerings, but there was graffiti on the casket’s lid that it seemed no one had cared to clean away: harsh red spraypaint not unlike the graffiti on the Functionist billboards outside.  _ IF GOD WON’T FORGIVE ME HE SURE WON’T FORGIVE YOU _ . 

He broke open the lock, threw the lid open and gazed into his own unlit eyes.

The other Star Saber had not died in this shape. The line bisecting him was only crooked in minute angles, but the damage sustained to his wings and the carriage suggested he had been killed in jet mode. The mortician reassembling his body had been kind enough to transform him manually. His face had been altered as well, to remove what must have been a grotesque scream. Some welding had been done to his mouthplate.

Star Saber’s hands trembled as he slid his arm beneath the cold metal of his alternate’s body. He unlatched the mouthplate and breathed in raw decay— the tang of rust and its foul aftertaste. There were scars around the right optic that he didn’t recognize. He drank in the sight, and his alternate gazed back with God’s judgment.

At the end of his journey, the other Star Saber learned that the fabled Cyberutopia was only that— a fable. A story told by the descendants of the Knights of Cybertron, who fell victim to a terrible facility that gave them all they wanted before it ended their lives. Despite knowing it was supposed to be the Promised Land, he had seen no paradise… as Mederi’s senses knew only the repressed doubt that shrouded Heaven into nothing more than the word itself.

Would Star Saber have seen the same thing? Was his faith truly weaker than even he knew?

It was hard to hate the mech that had killed him ( _ put him out of his misery _ ). That mech, according to Braver, was the  _ conjunx endura _ of one of the New Thirteen. Was he anything but correct to do it?

Braver was certain it was a test to see if they could succeed where their alternates had failed. He’d eagerly gone on about his eagerness to prove to Primus that they could re-earn His blessings, and it had taken all of Star Saber’s self-control not to scream.

They hadn’t  _ lost _ Primus’ favour. They never had it to begin with.

Star Saber stroked his alternate’s broken helm as he took in a shaky breath. “What did you do?” He asked, barely above hysteria. His optics flared with heat and light. “How could this have happened to you? You did  _ everything _ you were told. Everything  _ He _ asked. You never wanted anything more than His approval! So why? Why does He hate you so much?  _ How did I fail Primus? _ ”

His alternate’s only response was silence.


End file.
